


Dirty Dishes

by The_Quartermasters



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4471475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Quartermasters/pseuds/The_Quartermasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a failed attempt at a dine-and-dash, a young Ace finds himself in debt to the Baratie floating restaurant for a month. (Originally written 2004)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2004... just as the Skypeia arc was wrapping up in Shounen Jump. So keep that in mind as far as character backstory we had available.

This 'mission' was more challenging than he was used to. The layout of the place inherently made it much more difficult to escape than the usual patios and open doors he normally encountered. And furthermore, being on the open sea, once he got out on deck, he would have to scale the side of the ship to his vessel to avoid being noticed. He'd been completely helpless to resist though, when he'd come across a restaurant floating there right in the middle of the sea -- right around lunch time, too -- and his hunger had got the better of him. He had no regrets though; it had been the best meal he'd had in ages, even if he had had to 'borrow' some nice clothes from some snobby-looking Marine's kid in the waiting lounge. Now though what was important was slipping away, unnoticed. Because while he hadn't been paying attention to prices on the menu, he was quite sure the cost would be much for heavy for his very empty pockets. He'd first politely asked where the bathroom was and went in that direction before doubling back quickly and was making his way across the dining room, crawling under and between tables stealthily, careful to avoid the slacks and aprons of the waiters.

Unfortunately for the boy, one of the Baratie's high-ranking chefs happened to pass the same table Ace was currently crouched under. A man known for his short temper and absolute unflinching attitude toward non-paying customers, Patty took two steps past the table, then paused, turned back, bowed a brief apology to the young couple occupying the seat, and lunged under the table cloth, grabbing ahold of the boy and hauling him out by both skinny ankles. 

The yelp and tousle of the flailing boy being hauled up was enough to rouse the well-off customers of the Baratie into quiet murmurs. The freckled young boy writhed in the very tall man's grip, held up easily by his ankles. "Hey! Lemme down!"

Patty swung the boy under one arm, pinning him against his well muscled side and held him there, half crushed as he bowed out of the dining room, speaking genuine, heartfelt apologies and nodding to each of the disturbed guests as he backed out the door, head bowed near to his knees. 

Once they were outside, however, Patty wasted no time in whipping the boy out from under his arm and dangling him over the high railing by just one ankle this time. His face, beet red with anger was twisted and comical, and would have left Ace laughing had his life not been very literally in this man's iron grip. 

"You scrawny little no-good thief!!" Patty crowed. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't feed you to the sharks right now!"

Ace's head spun with vertigo from being slung around -- and all the blood rushing to his head. He managed a nervous laugh though, eyeing the surf below. "Surely, as a matredee of this fine establishment you would never feed such an underfed, scrawny thing like me to *anything*," he ventured. And while it was true that the boy's frame was lean with adolescence, there was an unquestionable lithe muscle to him. 

Word traveled fast on the Baratie and within moments, off-duty chefs and waiters were coming out of the woodwork, crowing at each other.

"Patty's got another one!"

Patty growled, ignoring the growing crowd and giving the boy another shake. "And as a highly skilled and highly praised chef of this fine establishment, I DO NOT tolerate those who eat and skip out on the bill! And smart-assery will get you nowhere, boy!" With these words, Patty's grip loosened just the slightest bit. 

Ace squeaked, eyes widening as he slipped an inch in Patty's grip. He wanted to avoid a fight if at all possible -- he didn't want to hurt anyone, especially since the whole thing was his fault for failing to sneak out undetected. He could practically feel the sea pulling at him already though and was quickly realizing he might have no other alternative.

A gravelly voice interrupted his thoughts though, just as he was sure Patty was about to let go. "Oi, Patty, you're making a hell of a lot of noise out here," a man said. Ace blinked at him through the crook of Patty's arm, fist on hip. The man's lips were pulled into a vaguely annoyed frown beneath his outlandish mustache -- not entirely unlike his own captain's.

Patty craned his neck around, not bothering to pull the boy in as he searched out the voice and the face of his captain, his employer, "Zeff... caught this kid filching food and running off without paying the bill. Won't stand for that behavior in this restaurant. Not on my watch," he grated, but he didn't let the kid go yet, smart enough to wait for a word from the mustached man.

The restaurant owner's face had a rather tired quality to it as he sized up the boy dangling over the side of the ship, meeting his wide, blinking eyes evenly. Zeff made an unconcerned sort of grunt then. "There are plenty of unwashed dishes in the sinks, Patty," he said. "And you know we're hard-pressed for help right now."

Patty grumbled, his grip tightening momentarily before he tossed the boy into the air, grabbing the front of his shirt just as he was about to fall past the chef's fingers. He spoke to Zeff, but his dramatically furrowed gaze never left Ace's freckled face. "Supposing the brat even knows a -thing- about how to work in a kitchen, how long do you figure he'd have to stay here to pay off that extravagantly large and exquisite meal he recently inhaled?"

"A month should cover it," Zeff said off-handedly.

Ace choked, a protest forming on his tongue. "A month--!" But he was cut short by Patty's hand tightening in the fine fabric of his borrowed shirt, reminding him what the alternative was and he sighed with resignation, bowing his head.

Patty snorted. "Letting the brat off easy..." he mumbled, but nonetheless dragged Ace back on deck, not bothering to mind the boy's shins which thumped solidly against the wooden railing, before he dumped him unceremoniously at Zeff's feet. "You'd better thank him, boy."

Ace winced at the thunk that bruised his shins but managed to mostly catch himself in front of the restaurant owner, landing on one knee but after a breath pulling himself to his feet. He bowed his head to Zeff respectfully, arms at his sides. "I'll work hard to repay my debt. Thank you." 

Zeff snorted, unimpressed. "It's late and everyone's busy. I'll let the chibi-nasu show you around in the morning."

Patty didn't waste any time hauling the boy by his collar in through the back, herding him past curious glances toward the cooks' bunk room. "You'll sleep here tonight, brat. And no funny stuff or fffft," he made a sweeping motion with his hands, mimicking Ace's fall and splash into the water below. "I'll be watching you..." With that, he turned and slammed the door shut behind him. 

Ace sighed, casting a glance around the cooks' barracks. A whole month in this place just for one meal? He couldn't complain though -- it was his own fault for getting caught. He could only hope that the 'job' included all the leftovers he could eat. He'd have to make up an excuse though and send a message back to the ship that he'd be delayed -- it wouldn't do for the crew to know he was just washing dishes the whole time. For the time being though, he found a bunk with no trunk to signify an occupant and started pulling off the jacket and shirt he was clad in. They were far too fine, really, and Ace found that usually 'finery' meant 'very itchy'. Once he was comfortably down to his trousers, he set off in search of the showers because he still had rice in his hair from the brief nap he'd taken during his meal. 

It was in this state, bathed and all but naked save for his trousers which he'd since torn considerably shorter and some scattered jewelry, that Ace showed up in the expansive kitchens of the Baratie. He tugged at the sleeve of the first cook that he crossed paths with. "Ano... I'm looking for... an eggplant?"

The cook raised an eyebrow and stifled a chuckle as he pointed past a few other of his fellows to the far corner where a gangly blond stood at a sink, elbows deep in soapy water, one foot hooked in the dip of his other knee, wading-bird style. 

"That's him. But don't call 'im that to 'is face. Sanji's libel to kick in your shins. Get's real riled up, real easy that kid." The cook snorted and turned back to put the finishing touches on the dish before him. 

"Sanji?" Ace repeated, looking at the back of the scrawny boy's head for a long moment. He was much younger than Ace had been expecting. -- perhaps he was the head bus boy or something like that. After a moment, Ace was shoved out of the way by one of the cooks who were in a hurry to get breakfast orders started. Sheepishly offering an apology, he made his way across the kitchen, approaching the boy at the wide, silver sink. "Ah... suman," he ventured. "Are you Sanji?"

The boy turned, pushing a strand of hair from the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. "Who are you?" he asked, not bothering to answer the question. "Customers aren't supposed to be back here...." he warned, furrowing his brow and never pausing in his task, the pile of washed plates growing beside him.

"Mm... I'm not *exactly* a customer..." Ace said, rubbing the back of his neck. "The owner -- Zeff? He told me to see you... I have... a bit of a debt to repay."

Sanji started at this, blinking for a moment, then scrunched up his nose in a scowl. "Kusojiji? Gah... leave it to the shitty old man to stick you with me...." Sanji sighed and pointed a soapy finger to the nearby wall where a row of freshly starched white uniforms hung. "You'd better put on one of those. He'll throw a fit if he finds you in here without a shirt on," Sanji explained.

Ace pulled a slight face -- more itchy fabric. This was even worse, all thick and rough and starched. He shrugged into one of them as he returned to the sink, not bothering to button it up, instead rolling the sleeves. "I'm Ace, by the way," he said, offering a smile. "Are you a bus boy?"

Sanji's eyes widened indignantly. "I am -not-. I'm a -cook-," he corrected haughtily. "I just happen to be... washing the dishes because... well, we're terribly busy today." He then quickly indicated the space next to him and took a small step to the left to give Ace room. "Once I show you how to do this properly, I dare say I'll be leaving you to prepare the day's soup. Or possibly the fruit tart." He then handed Ace a dish and pointed out the nearby nozzle. "Rinse," he ordered. "And don't drop it."

Ace caught the dish that was thrust into his hands, only fumbling slightly before catching it, managing a pained but reassuring smile at the other boy. "Ah -- forgive me. You're very young to be a cook," he explained. He reached for the sink nozzle. He'd been hoping not to get things off to *too* bad a start with this boy, especially since he seemed to be the only one in the crew anywhere near Ace's age. Not that Ace wasn't used to hanging around older men (he was the youngest in Whitebeard's crew) but still...

Sanji snorted. "And you're very young to be getting into trouble on the Baratie. Half the cooks here used to be pirates you know," Sanji's eyes never quite left the boy's hands, watching carefully to make sure he wouldn't drop a single plate or cup. 

"Yeah, well..." Ace shrugged. "You'd be surprised. I just didn't want to hurt anybody." He looked at Sanji askance. "What about you? Were you a pirate?"

Sanji laughed shortly, paused, then realized Ace had been serious with his question. He raised a curled brow. "Ah... no." He handed Ace another dish before continuing. "But doesn't matter who you are or where you come from. The shitty ol' man'll feed you. If you've got the coin." 

Ace sighed, deflated. "But sadly, I don't. But," and here he brightened, his voice turning somewhat hopeful for he wasn't entirely sure of his circumstances yet, "at least this means I'll get food while I'm here?"

Sanji gave a slight shake of his head. The boy, though taller and more built than he, seemed so much more a kid. He hoped the boy would get the hang of the kitchens quicker than some of the others who'd thought they could eat and run in the past. "Yeah, you'll get fed. Long as you don't mind leftovers."

"Ha!" Ace barked a laugh, a grin showing his teeth. "Are you kidding? Leftovers around here are a hundred times better than anything back on -- back home." His grin widened at the thought. Maybe he could just consider this a vacation; as long as he didn't get pounded by cranky ex-pirate-cooks, it really wouldn't be so bad. When he saw the look Sanji was giving him though, he ducked his head, chagrined. "Not that I won't take the work seriously, that is."

Sanji had a hard time hiding the half-grin that threatened his features at this enthusiasm though. Any compliment to the Baratie's food, he would easily take as a compliment to his own skill, seeing as how Zeff had recently been giving him (if grudgingly) more responsibility with the actual food preparation. He did nothing more than nod, however, and pulling his hands from the sink, rinsed the suds from his fingers and indicated to Ace to finish up the cup he held. "Come on, I'll show you around."


	2. Chapter 2

For a freeloader and a thief, Ace turned out to be a surprisingly hard worker, without so much a a complaint. And when meal times rolled around, he was only too delighted to clear off a dozen or more plates with an appetite of a man starved. Even a few of the Baratie's crew were impressed/horrified at his garbage-disposal-like hunger.

Sanji left shortly though to work on some other, more important thing and Ace didn't see him for the rest of the day. It wasn't until late that night, when the barracks were filled with the din of the snores of a crew of ex-pirate-cooks that Ace noticed the blond through the dim moonlight coming through the portholes. Unable to sleep (as he often was at night) a soft sound that wasn't snoring made it to his ears and when he opened his eyes, he was just able to make out the light of Sanji's hair and clothes as he crept quietly through the bunks.

Zeff had made it quite clear that he disapproved of the boy's nicotine habit. It dulled the senses, most importantly taste, and he scolded Sanji for smoking anywhere near the kitchens. So it was only really during the quiet hours of late-night, when the kitchens were closed and the boat quiet that Sanji could get away with a secret smoke. And he'd long perfected the art of sneaking through the barracks and out the often cracked-open door undetected. 

Ace lifted his head as the door silently shut behind Sanji and stole a glance around the dark bunks. Barefoot and clad only in his shorts, he followed carefully and quietly. Maybe he was overstepping his boundaries a bit but he had a sense of curiosity about the other boy, how someone so young and well... soft-looking had ended up on a ship of ruffians. Slipping out of the barracks, he let the door click so quietly behind him and glanced around the moonlit deck.

Just as the dark-haired boy's eyes swept to his left, a foot, bare and quick, snapped up and planted itself against the wood a bare half-inch from Ace's head. Sanji leaned in, eyes narrowed, both hands shoved into his pockets and a cigarette, not yet lit, hanging from the corner of his mouth. 

"What're you following me for?"

Ace blinked rapidly in surprise for a long moment before he was able to respond -- Sanji's stealth and quickness were impressive. As was the position he seemed to perfectly comfortable twisting himself into while still oozing intimidation. That surprise faded to chagrin though and Ace rubbed at the back of his shaggy hair. 

"I uh... couldn't sleep," he said, side glancing at the ankle that was practically touching his ear before offering a weak smile at the other boy. "Want some company...?"

Sanji gave him one last long hard stare as though trying to determine the sincerity of the boy's explanation. Then carefully, perfectly balanced, he lowered his foot and stood back from Ace, leaning a bit on one foot and reaching into a pocket to pull a book of matches into view. He shrugged and turned toward the railing. "Jus' don't go telling kusojiji you saw me. He doesn't much like me smoking."

"Don't worry about that," Ace assured him, strolling after Sanji to lean against the railing. He looked at the other boy inquisitively. "Is he your grandfather?"

Sanji laughed, took a drag on the cigarette he'd finally got lit and offered it to Ace. "No, I s'ppose not. More like a pa than anything. Way he's always on my heels..."

It was difficult for Ace not to offer assistance in lighting the cigarette -- but there were things he thought better than to reveal around here. He preferred to keep his real nature and his true strength under wraps -- besides, nearly everyone on this ship were ex-pirates and he wasn't sure of the general consensus toward those who still were pirates. 

He accepted the cigarette; though he didn't often smoke, he was hardly adverse to it. The tobacco was poor quality and bitter, he guessed that Sanji had difficulty in procuring it. Wisps of smoke wafted in the light breeze as he handed the cigarette back to Sanji. "Thanks." A silence passed but his curiosity got the better of him and he spoke up again. "Why in the world does he call you eggplant?"

Sanji took the cigarette and replaced it between his lips, rolling his eyes and sighing as he did so. "Probably cuz he knows how much I hate it," he scowled and pinched at the filter, shrugging. "Why'd you try to eat and run anyway? You don't have money? Parents?" He tried not to sound like he was too interested, but in all honesty, he didn't often see kids way out here on the ocean, not ones so close to him in age either. And the boy smiled like he was friends with you even before you spoke your name. And well... he was curious.

Ace hopped up to sit on the railing, pulling his feet up to address Sanji between his bent knees. "Parents?" he repeated and stopped to think about it before offering a shrug. "I might, not sure. Money, not much. I was supposed to meet up with a ship by now but I was delayed. Besides I don't think I've ever had as much money as that meal I ate cost," he added sheepishly. "It's not so bad being caught though -- this place is funny."

Sanji laughed a quiet laugh and leaned out farther, letting the breeze tug at his hair a moment before answering. "Funny huh? Yeah, I guess you'd say that. Lucky though, that the shitty ol' man got to you before Patty tossed you overboard. He's done it lots of times before. Tossed people over without even half a blink." Sanji looked at the other boy from the corner of his eye. "You... alone then?" 

"Guess I got lucky then," Ace laughed, a little nervously. If he *had* been tossed overboard, it would have been very, very bad. He almost had to wonder if that old man had recognized him -- he was starting to find that he was making a name for himself even as a lower member of Whitebeard's crew. His fiery technique aided in the quickly spreading stories though he wasn't sure if it had traveled as far as East Blue. "Ah..." he said slowly. "Yeah, mostly, for now. I was delivering a message and now I'm heading back home. I'll have to send a message ahead to let them know I'll be here for a while." He cleared his throat, turning on the rail to let his bare feet dangle overboard. "On this ship... is everyone an ex-pirate?" he asked, casually.

Sanji wanted to ask where home for Ace was, but he didn't press the question. It wasn't right asking too much of a traveler; you didn't know who they might be or what they might want to keep to themselves. There was a brief moment of quiet before the young cook remembered to answer the boy's inquiry. "Ah.... hmm. Yeah, I guess lots of 'em. Most of 'em no one else'd hire. But the old man did. He don't have anything against pirates, that's for sure." 

Ace laughed out loud at this, trying not to sound too relieved. "Oh really? What about you?" he inquired, still casual. "You must be used to being surrounded by brutes by now, huh?"

Sanji had to laugh at this. "Yeah, I guess you could say I'm used to it. Doesn't make it any less pleasant a fight breaks out or half the staff gets drunk and uses your bed to pass out on." Sanji snorted in disdain and flicked the butt of his spent cigarette over the railing. 

Ace sighed and shook his head -- he knew that only too well. As the youngest member of Whitebeard's crew, having joined at age thirteen, he'd often been put in such a situation. Ace grinned at him then. "Seems like that old man of yours knows how to take care of 'em though. And you too maybe..." He studied Sanji for a moment, quizzical and leaning forward slightly. "You're stronger than you look, aren't you?"

Sanji smiled a bit at that and raised a brow. "Got a good eye then?" he figured, "Strong enough, I guess, to keep 'em decent. But not as strong at the old man. Not yet, anyway. One day though," he grinned and tucked a bit of hair behind his ear. "I got plans," he nodded to himself, but didn't elaborate.

"That old man..." Ace contemplated, now rocking on his heels with his fingers hooked beneath the railing. "He's Zeff the Red Leg, isn't he? That move you pulled... he taught you?"

Sanji's eyes left the sea and found the boy beside him, giving him a hard, calculating look, as though attempting to determine his intentions. After a long moment he nodded. "Yeah, that's him. And yeah, I've been decked by that move enough times to have learned it by now." 

A boyish grin split Ace's lips, showing a Cheshire sliver of white in the darkness. "You pulled it off well. He must be proud of you."

Sanji blinked, then scoffed, returning the smile with a shake of his head. "The old bastard would sooner cut off his other leg than ever say he was -proud- of me." He shrugged. "Don't much mind. I'll kick his ass one day."

Ace laughed out loud at this. "Are those your big plans, then? To defeat your master?" He couldn't help but be intrigued by Sanji -- a cook with the stealth and prowess of a pirate, learned under one of the most infamous pirates outside of Grandline. 

Sanji shrugged. "Isn't that something everyone aspires to? Nah, that's not so big." He eyed the dark-haired boy openly. "What about you?"

Ace's grin became a bit more candid, a bit more far away. He ducked his head slightly. "My goal? Mmm... my goal is to help my master achieve his goal," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "And to see everything there is to see in between."

Sanji's second cigarette had long since burned down to a nub and he stubbed it out absently, nodding at Ace's words. "Not much to see here, I guess. I imagine it'll be a dull month for you." He turned from the railing then and took a step toward the cabin. "Better get back to bed before someone comes out to kick my ass. Yours too," he added.

"I don't think it'll be *too* dull," Ace said, jumping lightly from the railing and trotting after Sanji. "Good company and good food? There's little more a man could ask for!"

As Sanji slipped back into his bunk, he cast a brief glance at the other boy's back before turning over and settling in. Perhaps showing him the ropes wouldn't be so bad. As long as he didn't drop any plates.


	3. Chapter 3

Within a few days, Ace seemed to have proven his worth by in fact breaking no dishes, working hard and beating Carne at arm wrestling. (He wasn't quite strong enough to beat Patty, however.) Having proven himself, he was promoted from common dishwasher to common busboy, though he pouted over the fact that they made him button up his shirt while working in the dining room. The advantage though was that he had first pick of the leftovers, though bodily harm was threatened on him if he picked all the plates clean. 

It was an afternoon when Sanji was waiting tables, one of which was occupied by a tall, burly man. When he was seated and Sanji went to take his order though, the man proved distracted by something over Sanji's shoulder, a frown pulling at his wide mouth. 

"That boy... I've seen him before," the man muttered to himself.

A glance over Sanji's shoulder revealed he had his eyes fixed on Ace who was piling plates into a tub, oblivious and whistling to himself. When Sanji turned his eyes back to the patron, he'd produced a stack of papers and was rifling through them.

After thumbing through half the sheets, the man stopped on one and tapped a finger at the lop-sided mouth that grinned up at him. Sanji sucked in a sharp breath and glanced back at the freckled boy, still collecting dishes from a nearby table. 

The customer quickly shoved the papers back into his bag and ordered a pint of ale from Sanji, waving him away with a thick, tanned hand. 

Sanji turned hurried toward the kitchens, catching Ace by the arm as he went, hissing into his ear, "Come with me."

"Huh?" Ace blinked, suddenly finding himself being dragged away from his work. He stumbled along beside Sanji, confused. "But I'm not done--"

Sanji pulled the other boy after him, letting the kitchen doors swing shut behind them before he was pressing Ace against the far wall, out of the kitchen traffic. "You didn't mention the bounty," he scowled. "And now there's a hunter out there waiting for his chance at your neck."

"Bounty?" Ace repeated, eyes wide. "My neck?" It seemed to dawn on him then and he was torn between dread and thrill, blanching even as his eyes lit up. "I have a bounty? Did you see the poster? Was it a good picture?"

Sanji sagged back and let go of Ace's shoulder, brow raised, incredulous. He hadn't even known? "I dunno! I didn't hang around long enough to get a good look! Listen, you stay here, I gotta go bring him his order.... I'll be right back, okay?" 

Ace nodded in agreement and tagged behind Sanji to peer through the port hole in the door and get a look at the man who was after his head. He'd had no idea that his name had spread as far as that -- to the point that he'd actually had a price placed on him. He wasn't completely a fool; he knew it was both an honor and a curse. But he couldn't help but be a little excited over it. He wondered if Whitebeard had seen the poster yet.

Sanji carried out the chilled mug, setting it down before the man, subtly sizing him up from the corner of his eye. He hoped the man wouldn't make trouble in the restaurant, but he wanted to be ready if he did.

The man's hand closed around the cold glass and he spoke up, voice low and gravelly before Sanji could ask for his order. "Boy," he said, turning his eyes up. "That kid. Is he a member of the staff here?"

Sanji's shoulders squared tightly and he looked the man in the eye before answering. "Is there a problem with your service, sir?"

"No problem boy, unless'n you don't answer my question," the man replied. "That kid. Did he join this crew?"

Sanji bristled, but he caught one of the other cooks looking in his direction and he swallowed and forced himself to reply. "Each of the men who work here answer to our master chef and the owner of the restaurant. If there is something not to your liking, you may register your complaint with -him-."

The man laughed out loud then, a broad grin twisting across his face. "Just as I thought. No complaint, none at all. Bring me a steak, boy, rare." With this, he waved Sanji off.

Sanji inclined his head in a bow that was perhaps a bit shallower than a customer deserved, and retreated to the kitchens to find Ace. 

"Go ahead and keep working," he told the other boy. "Just keep an eye on that guy in the mean time, okay? I will too."

"Don't worry about it," Ace said with a grin. "He doesn't look that tough. I'm sure I can take 'im."

Surprisingly, the meal went perfectly smoothly. Ace cleared a few more tables and then moved back to the kitchens as the man was finishing his meal. He left a hefty tip for Sanji and left with a casual wave of his hand. Puzzled, Sanji returned to the kitchens to tell Ace that he'd left but the other boy was gone. 

Outside on deck, Ace was dumping some trash overboard -- mostly fish bones and bits of bread and vegetables. The fish below knew this routine well and floundered over each other, wrestling for scraps. Ace laughed, "You're as hungry as I am, aren't you? Almost break time for me."

The thunk of boots on the deck alerted Ace of someone jumping down from the roof behind him and lifting a brow, he looked over his shoulder. The bounty hunter cracked his knuckles.

"Portgas D. Ace... your bounty was just issued and already you've retired to become a busboy?" he mused, smirking.

Ace turned, letting the garbage can clunk back to the deck so he could lean against the railing. "It's just a sabbatical, really," he replied easily. "And here I thought you'd decided not to go after me. Nice to know my very first bounty hunter isn't lazy."

Sanji meanwhile had torn off his apron, stuffed the tip in his pocket and was sliding through the kitchens, narrowing avoiding numerous collisions with other cooks and servers in his search for the missing busboy. 

"Ace? Told that little slacker to take out the trash if he was just gonna hang around the kitchens with his finger up 'is nose."

Sanji swore and hurried to the back exit, kicking open the door with a BANG! just in time to see the boy and bounty hunter mere yards from each other. "STOP!" he yelled, fists clenched, hair tangling in the sea breeze that rushed up the side of the ship.

"Eh?" the bounty hunter glanced over his shoulder with a scowl. "You again, boy? Stay out of this, it's none of your business."

"It's okay, Sanji-kun," Ace meanwhile called cheerfully with a wave. "I'm sure I can handle him just fine." 

The man laughed then, his attention drawn back to his quarry. "Think pretty highly of yourself, don't you, boy?" he remarked, drawing his sword and producing a set of bolas from a pouch on his belt.

"Not really," Ace replied, shifting to a more ready position, still grinning confidently at the man. He clenched a fist at his side and flame flickered to life around it, licking up his wrists and around his fingers.

Sanji scowled and stepped closer. "When it's on my ship, it's my business. It's you who's out of line. We don't allow this sort of thing on the Baratie. You want to eat here, you put away your weapons." 

He turned to Ace then. "And if you burn down my restaurant, -I'll- be after your head next."

Ace had the grace to look chagrined then, his flames glowing a little dimmer. "I'm careful," he protested, rubbing the back of his head with his other hand. 

The bounty hunter though seemed not to hear Sanji's words of warning and instead of sheathing his weapon, his eyes flickered as Ace's defenses fell. He charge forward then with a swing of his great curved sword. At the last moment, Ace came to his senses, ducking low to dart between the large man's legs, swinging his fiery hand back to slap him on the rump as he darted away. Growling, the hunter rounded as Ace lighted to stand beside Sanji. It was a moment later that he sniffed at the burning scent in the air and a moment after that he'd dropped his weapons and was slapping at himself to put out his flaming trousers.

"I don't think he's very smart," Ace commented to Sanji.

Sanji had to cough and hold a hand to his mouth to hide the smirk that threatened to undermine the show of authority he was trying to present. He wasted not a moment more however, before we was leaping at the man, dropping to a crouch at the last moment to kick at one of the man's weapons, sending it flipping over his head toward Ace, "Catch it!" he cried as he went for the second. 

"Uh--" was all Ace managed to get out, reflexively snapping out a hand to catch one of the balls of the spinning bolas. He would have easily caught the second with his other hand, thus immobilizing their intended purpose, but the moment the cool stone touched his skin, his vision momentarily blurred, a huge wave of sleepiness washing instantly over him. Not like the sleepiness he was used to -- this was over his entire body, rendering his muscles motionless, slowing his thoughts and making the deck spin. His fingers missed the second ball and instead, the cord caught and it whirled around his arms and shoulders, trapping his arms against his body. His knees went weak and struggled as his legs gave out beneath him until he was crumbling to the deck. 

The bounty hunter, who seemed to have put the flames out, surged forward, a thick hand clasping around Sanji's ankle just before he made contact with the sword in hopes of kicking it overboard. With his free hand, he snatched up the weapon while hauling Sanji up by his leg, letting him hit the deck hard before he was pulled into the air to hang upside down. The man laughed raucously, quick to place the blade at Sanji's throat to prevent that second leg from doing any damage. "Stupid kids!" he crowed. "Those're seastone bolas -- you're little friend's as good as a ragdoll now!"

Sanji swore and held still. He was good with his feet, but not as good as Zeff, and the blade against his neck was sharp. He didn't know what the man was talking about, but it was clear that Ace was in no condition to fight back. 

With Ace immobilized and in the bounty hunter's sights, Sanji was nothing more now but a vague annoyance. He made as though to toss the boy over the railing, but the very instant his blade fell away from the young cook's throat, a resounding crack filled his ears and the man was flying forward through the air to land heavily on his shoulder, mere feet from the unmoving pirate boy. 

"I'll have no fighting on my ship. Take your business elsewhere." The voice was deep, firm, unflinching and Sanji, who'd managed to avoid the fall into the ocean was already running past Zeff with the thought to follow up the older cook's blow.

Zeff's heavy hand though caught Sanji by the back of his collar, yanking him back before he could get in his attack. "You've done enough, chibi-nasu," Zeff said firmly. "Go help the other brat."

His nose bloodied and face scratched from sliding harshly across the deck, the man pushed himself onto his elbows, teeth clenched tightly with anger. With a surge, he was rushing Zeff, sword swinging.

Zeff wasn't as fast on his feet or as skilled as he'd been when he'd had both his legs but a two-bit bounty hunter was still no match for him. With his peg leg, he deflected the blade, knocking it from the man's grip to clatter across the deck and into the sea with a splash. In the same movement, he delivered a second kick with his good leg, connecting solidly with the hunter's chest. With a great crash and flurry of splinters, the hunter had been thrown right through the wall, several yards behind Ace's crumpled form.

Sanji scowled at being told what to do, but he knew better than to underestimate the master cook. And even as the bounty hunter was soaring over his head and through the wall, he had crawled over to Ace and cut the bola's ropes from the boy's body with a kitchen knife he'd 'borrowed' from one of the other gawking cooks that had followed Zeff out to the deck. 

"Hey, Ace," he slapped lightly at the other boy's still pale face. "Hey."

A heavy hand on his head, and Sanji turned to see Zeff frowning over them and Patty and Carne already dumping the bounty hunter's prone form over the railing. 

"Better take him back to the bunks. He'd best not be dead; that little brat owes me a new wall."


	4. Chapter 4

When Ace finally came to, he was disoriented, struggling to make his blurry vision focus. The room was dim and cool and there were clean linens beneath him. He groaned faintly, starting to lift his head.

Sanji jerked his head up at the sound, blinking blearily. He sat on the edge of the bunk opposite Ace and had been quite near to nodding off when the rustle of sheets shook him awake. He slipped from the other bed to sit by Ace, leaning over the other boy in the dim light of the bunkroom. 

"Hey," he spoke quietly. "How're you feeling?"

"Nnn..." Ace mumbled, lifting a hand to push his hair away from his face and rub at a temple. His head throbbed. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "I fell asleep? Right in the middle of a fight?" He groaned again -- usually that didn't happen at crucial moments. "How long was I out? What happened?"

"I tried to pass you his weapon but you didn't catch it fast enough or something cuz next thing I knew you were all tangled up and passed out." He gave a little scowl then. "And then the shitty old man showed up and kicked the guy's head in." He shrugged. "You've been out for hours. Dinner's almost over. Kusojiji told me to keep an eye on you." 

Sitting up in the bed now, Ace's shoulders sagged, dark hair falling in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm not usually that... weak."

Sanji shrugged. "...It's okay." He hesitated a moment, then offered an apologetic sort of smile. "But the old man's not too happy about his busted wall. Figures on keeping you another couple weeks to pay for the damages..." Sanji gave a little shrug and leaned back on his palms.

Ace groaned, flopping back against the sheets and placing a hand over his eyes. Not that he didn't like the place... but at this rate he'd be trading in his flag for an apron!

Sanji echoed the boys sigh and said nothing for a moment before shifting to dig into his pocket and pull out one of the bola stones he'd managed to salvage before tossing the remains of the weapon into the ocean. He turned the strange stone over in his hand, rubbing a thumb across it's smooth surface. 

"Think it might be worth something?" he asked. "Never heard of seastone before..."

"Seastone?" Ace repeated, his hand jerking away from his eyes. He sat up abruptly, leaning in toward Sanji. "Is it really? Let me see." Taking the smooth ball, that exhausted, weak feeling abruptly washed over him, causing him to wither back to the sheets. His fingers went limp and the stone globe thunked loudly as it hit the deck.

Sanji sucked in a breath and stood, kicking the fallen stone back into his hand, carefully depositing it back to his pocket. "Idiot!" he mumbled, without quite the bite he might normally put behind the word. Then he was sitting again, just a bit closer to Ace's shoulder. He leaned over Ace's form and pressed the back of his hand matter-of-factly to Ace's forehead. "Are you all right?"

Ace was a bit woozy for a moment but then he sat up suddenly, jerking back into alertness. "I've never seen seastone before," he explained animatedly, only a little short of breath. "Only heard of it. No wonder I fell asleep!"

Sanji fingered the lump in his pocket curiously. "But I don't feel anything at all..." he wondered aloud. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Ace nodded assuringly. "I'm fine, now... That stuff, it's just different for me. Because I ate Akuma no Mi, it sucks away my energy."

Sanji's eyes widened in curiosity. "I've never met anyone who's eaten one before... what's it feel like?" 

Ace grinned rather sheepishly. "Doesn't really feel like anything," he admitted. "I didn't even realize I'd eaten one until a few days later when I sneezed and set someone's beard on fire."

Sanji grinned at this and raised an eyebrow. "Not your captain's, I hope."

"My cap--? Oh, I guess you know now, huh?" Chagrin painted the raven-haired boy's features.

"Doesn't matter," Sanji spoke quickly, shrugging. "Lots of pirates come here. So do Marines and bounty hunters and even just normal families and travelers." 

"I'm sorry for not telling you, anyway, though," Ace said, offering a faint smile. "I was hoping not to create a stir... and I didn't want you to not like me because of it."

"Pirates destroyed my home and everything I knew once...." Sanji said quietly. "But a pirate also saved my life and gave me a new home." He looked at Ace then, a funny little almost smile on his mouth. "Mutual respect," he spoke as though quoting another's words. "That's what's important." 

A sliver of a grin pulled at Ace's mouth and he nodded, thrusting a hand out at Sanji, palm open. "Mutual respect," he agreed. He cheered more then, relieved. "Thanks for helping me fight that guy. I owe you."

Sanji grinned, clasping Ace's hand in return. "Just protecting my home," he shrugged off the thanks, his hand lingering in Ace's warm grip. "You're awfully warm..." he added after a quiet not-quite-awkward moment. 

Ace released Sanji's hand with a bashful laugh, instead hooking it behind his neck. "That's nothing," he said with a sheepish smile. His stomach growled loudly then, making his freckled cheeks blossom pink. "Did you say it was nearly dinner time..?"

Sanji stood then, tucking both hands behind his head and stretching, casting an apologetic grin down at the other boy. "Actually, it's probably over by now. But I could probably bring you something from the kitchens if you like..." 

Blinking up at Sanji, the color around Ace's cheeks lingered. "You don't have to--" His stomach interrupted in protest though with a low, warning growl. "That would be great," he gave in, defeated but smiling.

It was the next day that Ace found Zeff in the kitchens and politely asked for a moment of his time. Stone-faced, he bowed deeply to the master chef. "Jii-chan," he said seriously. "I am greatly indebted to you for your protection yesterday... Sanji-kun told me what happened. I'll never forget your kindness. However... I simply cannot stay for another two weeks."

Zeff stared down at the boy, grasping his mustache and tugging down on both ends. When he let go, they sprang back into place above a deep set frown. Then, without speaking, the man set a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder and led him through the kitchens, toward the back exit. He brought their steps and pointed at the blue afternoon sky. "See that? That's a hole. In my WALL," his voice was, low, even, but unmistakably serious. 

"And a fine hole it is," Ace said with a solemn nod. "However... I am not the one who kicked someone through that wall." 

Zeff's brow furrowed at these words and he reached into a pocket to draw out a folded paper, handing it to Ace. "See that? That's a wanted poster. With your face on it. The man who's back broke my wall, was after the face -on- that wanted poster!" The master chef's voice got louder and more forced with each word he spoke and his face redder.

For a moment Ace just blinked down at the photo of himself, grinning at him over his shoulder. His mouth twisted into a frustrated scowl, his own brow tightening. He knew Zeff was perfectly right and he *did* feel indebted... but... "But... two WEEKS?!" he cried.

"TWO WEEKS," Zeff confirmed, holding out a large fist, his thumb and index finger extended. "Two weeks that will barely cover the cost of the wood it'll take to repair this wall, let alone the time and labor!"

"*I* could fix this wall in less than two weeks!" Ace said back, loudly, petulantly.

Next thing Ace knew, there was a foot under his rump and he was flying through the air and through the hole, the old man's voice crowing after him, "THEN GET TO IT!" 

Ace hit the deck squarely on the seat of his shorts with a grunt, scowling as he listened to the sound of the old man's uneven footsteps stomp off. He sighed then, thrusting a fist against his cheek, elbow propped on his knee. Well... at least this meant he'd be able to work in the sun now.


	5. Chapter 5

It was at the damaged wall that Sanji found Ace that afternoon, planks of wood stacked nearby, a hammer in one hand and a mouth full of nails. "Hey, how's it going?" he asked, pleasantly, a tray of iced drinks balanced in one hand.

Ace looked up, blinking with mild surprise at the voice. He was stripped down to boots and his tattered shorts though it seemed his moderately pale skin was impervious to the afternoon sun. He wasn't, it seemed though, impervious to hard work because he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead which was beaded with sweat. "Ah, Sanji-kun!" he said cheerfully around the nails before removing them and setting them aside. "Not too bad. Just proving to your old man that he can't swindle me."

Sanji laughed at this and shifted the tray to his other hand. "If he doesn't get what he wants one way, you can be sure he'll find another." Then, with the grace of an experienced server, he lowered the tray and held it out toward the young worker. "Thirsty?" he asked.

"Ah -- for me?" Ace's eyes lit up at the glasses dripping with condensation and took one, downing half of it in several long swallows. With a satisfied breath, he took the drink from his lips and grinned up at Sanji, leaning back on his palms, letting his shoulders relax. "Thanks! It's delicious." He sighed and with a grin, pushed his bangs away from his face, the rest kept in a tiny, poofy tail. "I guess I'm just glad he didn't kick me overboard. I guess I kinda pushed my limits this morning."

Depositing the tray on the deck and taking a seat near Ace on a stack of wooden beams, Sanji toed absently at a stray nail while he spoke. "Ah, he wouldn't have kicked you overboard. He likes you." 

Ace laughed and took another long swig before responding. "I suppose that's good to know -- I don't suppose I'd still be in one piece if he didn't, na?" He snickered faintly, licking his lips. "You're a brave man, Sanji-kun, standing up to him like you do. Or a glutton for pain."

Sanji laughed. "I just know exactly how much I can get away with before he kicks the shit out of me. And then... then I push it farther. How else am I gonna get him to show me his best moves? Gotta learn somehow."

"All part of your plan, eh?" Ace grinned. "He must like you a lot though, to have let you last this long." His expression softened slightly, treading carefully. "Zeff's the pirate that saved your life, isn't he?"

Sanji fell silent, as though for a moment he were remembering things he didn't generally think upon. When he finally answered, his voice was quiet, thoughtful. "... he was that. A whole lot of other things too. But yeah... things would be a whole lot different if I'd never met that shitty old man."

Ace shifted forward, sprawling on his stomach across the hot deck. He propped his chin up on open palms and the smile and words he offered were hardly oblivious but cheerful. "But then I wouldn't have been able to meet you. And fix this big-ass hole in your wall."

Sanji blinked and the far-away look faded and there was Ace grinning up at him and he smiled back. "That's very true," he agreed, lifting a glass and indicating the third with a tip of his head. "Well then, here's to shitty old pirates, hm?"

Ace laughed and jumped up again to flop down beside Sanji on the beams, reaching for the glass to clink it to Sanji's. "To pirates!" he agreed, taking another long swallow. He grinned over the rim of his glass at the other boy. "What about you, Sanji-kun? Ever thought of becoming a pirate?"

Sanji sipped lightly at his drink, teeth tapping the glass when he smiled. "Me? Pffft... I'm a cook. And it's not as if I don't get my fill of pirates every day." He shook his head. "Pirates lives are so uncertain, aren't they? I've got goals. No time to sail around in circles looking for treasure."

"Pirates gotta eat too!" Ace laughed. "I know personally that my crew would throw themselves overboard for someone with half your talent and skill. Not that our cookie doesn't make decent food... but it's just different, not on the same level." Stretching his legs out in front of him, he regarded Sanji for a moment, that lop-sided smile still on his face. "What are these goals of yours, anyway?" he asked curiously.

The young cook shook his head. "I'm not ready yet. Not good enough, not strong enough. I -will- be. But not yet.... There's a place... A place I want to see..."

"A place?" Ace repeated, tilting his head. "Grandline?" he ventured.

Sanji's eyes widened at the word and he caught Ace's curious stare. "Grandline..." he echoed, then shrugged and shook his head as though embaressed. "Maybe. Could be that's where it is..."

"Sanji-ku~un," Ace whined, leaning forward to pillow himself on his drawn-up knees. He didn't want to be rude or push too hard but now he was *really* curious.

Sanji bit his lip, running a hand through his hair. He didn't talk about his dream. Not anymore. Not when it was never met with anything but derisive laughter or mocking jokes. But something about this boy.... "You have to promise you won't laugh. And before you ask, it's not a joke or a game..." he warned.

Ace nodded, eyes wide and attentive. "I promise," he said earnestly.

"It's called All Blue," he paused, watching Ace from the corner of his eye, checking his reactions. "It's an ocean where all oceans meet. Where every fish that you can think of lives, every fish from every ocean all in one place. That's what I want to find," he finished and glanced at Ace nervously. 

"Ah!" Ace exclaimed, palming his fist. "I've heard of that. Never seen it myself though," he admitted. He aimed a broad grin at Sanji. "But I bet you if it's anywhere, it's in Grandline."

Sanji threw Ace a grateful smile. At least he didn't think the young cook crazy. A comfortable silence passed between them before Sanji finally spoke again. "Where will you go after this?"

"Back to my ship," Ace replied easily. "I only came out here to deliver a message and I was supposed to return after that." A nervous smile pulled at his face and he rubbed his neck. "I'm probably gonna get the riot act for bein' so late."

Sanji laughed politely. "I'm sure you'll be okay. You can... take care of yourself right?" It wasn't quite a tease and Sanji's smile was genuine. "So.... how much longer will you be here?" he asked, offhandedly, as though it were mere small talk and not something he actually wanted to know.

Ace shrugged. "I guess as long as it takes to fix this wall," he said, glowering at the gaping hole. "Maybe longer. Up to your old man, really. I always repay my debts... when someone's good enough to catch me, anyway." He brightened then, rocking suddenly to the side until his shoulder playfully bumped Sanji's. "You could come with me! I could take you to Grandline to look for All Blue!"

For a moment Sanji's breath seemed to stick in his throat and he couldn't speak or blink or even quite bring himself to look at Ace. He would have been hard pressed to remember ever wanting something so badly. And he wasn't even sure why. He barely knew this boy. And he was young, but his heart ached for the legend of All Blue nevertheless. And yet.... he shook his head, trying to swallow and not having much luck at it. "I... I can't," he mumbled to his chest. "I haven't... proven myself here yet. That shitty old man won't acknowledge me until I'm good enough. And I'm not. Not yet..." He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to cry, but he held it back, though his voice cracked ever slightly. "I wish... " He shook his head, unable to finish the thought. 

Ace blinked at the other boy, all his playfulness draining away quickly. He hadn't realized how sensitive it was. "Hey," he piped up again, then. "Hey, no problem." He leaned in again, against Sanji lightly, shoulder to shoulder. And tilting his head, he rested the side of his against Sanji's. "You're really strong -- and that old man isn't completely stupid. He'll acknowledge you. And then... maybe I'll see you in Grandline someday. And I can be looking out for All Blue for you, until you make it there."

Sanji looked away quickly, lifting a hand to swipe at his eyes, but when he looked back to Ace, he was smiling and he nodded, biting lightly at his lower lip. "I'd like that," he answered, the touch of color in his cheeks confirming the honesty of his response. 

Letting his smile return, Ace gripped Sanji's shoulder giving him a light shake for emphasis. "And then when you find it you have to bring back that old man the biggest damn fish he's ever seen!"

Sanji laughed quietly then. "He'd probably take one at it, snort at me and say he'd seen better." Here Sanji stuck out his lip, furrowed his brow and took on the voice of the old man, low and gravelly and annoyed, " 'And I'll bet it tastes like shit, too.' "

"But then." Here Ace lifted a finger. "He'll try it and -- he'll *cry* because it's the best thing he's ever had!" Joining in, he snatched up a hammer and a wrench to serve as a mustache and pulled his most dramatic sniffling face, whimpering patheticly.

This time Sanji laughed aloud, his eyes squeezed shut in mirth, the sunlight dancing across his hair as it shook with the motion of his shoulders. "Oh! S-stop!" he choked out, clutching his stomach, tight with laughter. 

Ace laughed as well, letting the tools clatter back to the deck. And flopping back down across from Sanji, his eyes were bright with mirth as he caught the other boy's gaze. "Ah, I may have to come back just to see that face," he laughed.

Sanji grinned, gave a small hiccup and nodded. "Oh, it'll be the best," he agreed, "He'll cry like a baby. A hairy, wrinkled, ugly baby." The young cook smirked. 

Leaning back on his palms, Ace replied, "I didn't mean Zeff's face -- I meant yours." He flashed his wide, crooked grin at Sanji. "I like it better when you smile."

The smile on Sanji's face stayed for a few moment's more out of surprise, and then it fell, replaced with a flush that spread bright pink across both cheeks. "Oh!" he chirped, silly, taken off guard and lifted his glass to his lips, only to remember that it was empty. 

Ace continued to grin faintly, distracting himself by tugging his hair free of the thread that held it back to scruff at the back of his head. "I should get back to work," he finally said, "before Ji-chan comes and catches me slacking." 

Sanji smiled faintly and nodded, noticing that when he stood, he swayed just the slightest bit, lightheaded. His cheeks still felt warm as he gathered the tray and the empty glasses. "Well... good luck with the wall," he offered before turning back to the kitchens.


	6. Chapter 6

It was the next day that a storm rolled in quite suddenly, turning the seas wild and choppy and keeping most customers from reaching the Baratie's decks. The hole in the wall was secured with a heavy tarp and Ace spent the afternoon washing dishes instead. As evening turned into night, the gale only grew worse. Not enough to threaten the Baratie's very sturdy structure or put them in danger of capsizing, but more than enough to force the ship into angry rocking and low creaking. Most of the crew were content to go to bed early to escape the tossing of the ship. 

Ace waited though, lying in bed, until the bunker was quiet aside from the ship's groans and the howl of the wind. Oblivious to the chill in the air, he crept from the barracks in his shorts and carefully made his way across the ship to the kitchens. They were, as he suspected, dark and empty -- no one wanted to be there in the middle of a storm. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak a midnight snack. Ace stopped short however, sniffing lightly at the air when the smell of smoke wafted to his senses.

Ace sniffed at the air again, silently padding across the cold tile. Had one of the stoves been left on? He crossed the kitchen to check, but no, everything was safely turned off. Looking down the walkway though, his gaze fell upon long legs sticking out from behind a cabinet and the whisps of smoke that snaked through the air. Stepping closer, he leaned over the edge of the counter, finding himself looking down at his temporary crewmate. "Sanji-kun?"

Sanji sat in a far corner of the kitchens, back pressed firmly against a cabinet door, legs splayed out before him, arm resting across a knee and lips clamped firmly around the cigarette. Most storms he could manage to sleep through. Once in a while though they forced him awake, flashing images of a long past storm, the one that signalled the change of the tides in his young life. The kitchens, the smoke and the quiet were a comfort. 

Sanji looked up, the faint light from the nearby porthole casting dark shadows under his eyes and nose and mouth. He blinked once and then reached up to remove the nearly spent cigarette from between his lips. "Storms always end," he murmured. 

Ace blinked down at the other boy through the dim light. He looked positively haunted. Swinging around the counter, he dropped to a crouch in front of Sanji, joining him on the floor. "What are you doing here? Do you dislike the storm?"

A bit of ash fell from the tip of Sanji's cigarette, unnoticed, onto the kitchen floor as his eyes found and caught Ace's. "No no. I'm fine," he insisted, but his voice was tight, unnaturally even. "It'll be over soon anyway." 

"Mm," Ace agreed in the back of his throat. He paused for a long moment. "Can I join you?" he asked finally, gently pushing his way in to the tight space that Sanji occupied. This was more important than food. "The Baratie's really an impressive ship, you know," he went on conversationally. "I'm glad I'm not stuck out on my schooner in this."

Sanji nodded automatically. "Yeah, yeah it is. Really strong. Shitty old man wouldn't build anything but the best." Still he flinched at the next crash of thunder. 

Ace was close, all but pressed up against Sanji's side in the confines between the cupboards. "It's a lot more comfortable than storms back on my ship... I usually have to stay below deck because there's so much sea water. Sea water knocks me out, just like that guy's seastone did. I hate that, not being able to help the crew secure the ship during a storm." He was babbling now, filling the silence with his own voice.

Sanji closed his eyes then. "Shh..." he whispered when the other boy paused to take a breath, and lifted a hand to lay it atop one of Ace's.

Falling silent at that simple sound, Ace looked down at the hand over his for a long moment. Finally he swallowed hard and shifted, sliding his hand out from beneath Sanji's to instead wrap his arm around the other boy's shoulders, pulling him gently against himself. He was silent though and tense, waiting. Sanji's hair smelled like cigarettes.

Sanji leaned against Ace's shoulder, stiffly, for a moment, breathing through his nose and staring straight ahead. But then he managed a deep, shuddering breath and he relaxed, falling limp into Ace's hold, his face turning so that his forehead pressed into Ace's neck. "You're warm," he observed, a quiet mumble. 

Ace turned his head slightly, tentatively letting his nose nuzzle lightly into the softness of Sanji's hair. He felt good, thin enough to fit in the circle of Ace's arm. His lips were just a breath away from the other boy's skin. Curling his arm around Sanji's frame, his fingers brushed lightly at his hair, weaving it gently in his fingers. "Not too much, I hope," he murmured very quietly.

"No," the cook's hand lifted from Ace's to touch the boy's jaw, the lightest contact, almost hesitant. "Just right..." 

The fingers in Sanji's hair slid to the nape of his neck, brushing lightly, warm points on his skin. He was nuzzling through that soft hair slowly with his nose, his cheeks warm even by his standards. His lips were at Sanji's ear when he found his voice again, a soft murmur, "Sanji-kun?" 

Sanji's fingers had stilled as Ace's breath stirred his hair; he could feel the heat in Ace's skin, the hint of scruff on his jaw, the muscles beneath the flesh move as Ace spoke his name. Even then he didn't move, but to reply. "... yes?"

"Mm..." Ace murmured. Hesitated. It was the softest breath that carried the simplest words, "I like you." It seemed silly, stupid, even as he said it. He was a pirate wasn't he, what was all that about plundering and ravaging? But... even pirates could retain some ideals. He waited though, cheeks burning, for Sanji to laugh at him, breath and lips still brushing like a breeze at his ear.

But Sanji didn't laugh at him. Sanji said nothing at all for a long moment. Then, the barest of whispers, spoken down to his own chest as he pressed the dying butt of the cigarette into the floorboards. "I like you too." Then a bit louder, as though to brush past this confession. "You'll stay for a bit?" He didn't lift his eyes.

It was let to slide past, perhaps simply out of Ace's respect or politeness. Or perhaps just a sense of understanding. Boys didn't talk about these things. But boys didn't curl up in each others' arms, either. Unless they were drunken, rowdy pirates late at night in the cargo hold. Though that wasn't exactly the same. Regardless though, his arms stayed loosely circled around Sanji's thin shoulders, forehead tipping forward against the back of his blond head. "Of course," he said quietly but cheerfully, smiling into the golden strands. "The barracks are too cold anyway."

The hint of a smile tugged at Sanji's nicotine-touched lips and he answered with a nod. Both ignored the knowledge that cold was forever the least of Ace's worries and instead settled into an easy silence. Sanji leaned back into Ace's shoulder, drawing comfort from the warm even breath that ruffled his hair. The storm seemed quieter.


	7. Chapter 7

It was inevitable that between Ace's own sleeping tendencies and the gentle warmth that he blanketed Sanji with in the secluded dark of the kitchen that the two boys would nod off with time. But when Ace woke it was without his usual jolt, though not without mild disorientation. His eyes fluttered open, finding his nose still nuzzled into Sanji's hair, the smaller frame still comfortably settled against him. He listened quietly to the even breath of the other boy, so calmly asleep. The storm outside had also quieted, the wind only whistling in its wake, pushing the ship into a rock but without the threatening waves crashing against its hull. 

He let himself indulge in this for only a moment, though his fingers longed to steal light touches, perhaps at a pale jaw or the pink of an ear. Instead though it was his quiet voice that woke Sanji. Dawn was starting to pull just at the edges of the cloudy sky; the morning staff would be waking soon to start on breakfast. The boys made their stealthy way back to the barracks, the snores of the crew quite a din after the softness of the abandoned galley.

They parted ways only with a brief glance and not a word, retreating to their respective beds.

The storm traveled past quickly, the sun breaking through the clouds by mid-morning. By the afternoon, only a few puffy stragglers remained against the blue painted sky; crisp weather that was ideal for laundering. Stark white tablecloths flew as wide banners on the Baratie's deck, eagerly catching the lingering breeze.

Sanji wrestled with the damp fabric, draping and pinning it to the lines, hands working fast and easy. It was a beautiful afternoon and he counted himself lucky to be out in it, in the sun and ocean breeze. 

"Hand me another clothespin?" he asked the shadow that moved on the opposite side of his tablecloth. A moment later, Ace's grinning face peeked around the cloth and he offered Sanji a small handful of the wooden pins. "Thanks." 

They lapsed back into silence for a few minutes, moving to the next bit of free clothesline and hanging two or three more linens before Sanji spoke up again. "Do a lot of laundry on your ship?"

"Not so much," Ace replied with a faint shrug of a bare shoulder. The boy had foregone even his boots today. "We don't have any reason to keep our tablecloths so spotless," he added with a laugh. "I don't think anything this white even *exists* on any pirate ship I've seen!"

Sanji grinned as he shook out yet another piece of linen. "What -is- it like living on a pirate ship? I mean... you know. A -real- one. Is the Grandline really as amazing as people say?" He stopped himself there, his last word clipped a bit, embarrassed at his small outburst. "I'm just... curious. I've never really seen much outside the restaurant..." he added, tucking a bit of blond back behind an ear.

"It's very... loud," Ace contemplated, taking the other end of the tablecloth and helping Sanji shake it into the breeze. "I was raised in a restaurant too, you know," he said and then added thoughtfully, "Well, more of a bar, really..." The wind made his own messy black hair blow across his face and he tossed his head, glancing at Sanji as they threw the thick fabric over the line. "The Grandline..." There was no concealing the sparkle that formed in the freckled boy's eye. "The Grandline is more amazing than anything anyone has ever said. No stories could begin to capture it. Of course, it's as dangerous as they all say too... but every day throws something new and crazy you've never seen at you. And just when you think you've seen it all, you see the craziest thing yet." His wide grin broadened around a few clothespins. "And I've only seen a corner of it."

Sanji returned that smile, wholeheartedly. "Yeah," he nodded. "That's exactly the kind of place All Blue would be...." Finally, they found themselves with the last of the tablecloths hung, the basket empty. Sanji wandered to the railing and leaned out over the water, letting the breeze tug at his chef's scarf and muss his hair. "When you return... to your ship... where do you think you'll go next?" His voice was wistful, his eyes cast not to the boy, but out across he horizon, trailing a flock of seagulls for a bit before tracing the edge of a stray cloud. 

"Who knows?" Ace replied, stretching lazily and tucking his arms behind his head. He slowly paced the floorboards behind Sanji, bare toes absently following the lines. "To be honest, I haven't been doing this too long myself. My crew thinks I'm a twerp, mostly." He grinned to himself though, turning his face skyward. "Wait until they find out I've got a bounty now." He paused then, standing behind Sanji and readdressing the subject at hand. "But that's part of the thrill, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile tugging now. "Not knowing."

Sanji considered this a moment before answering. "Yeah... guess it must be." He shrugged. "Everything's pretty predictable here though. Only mystery is whether the shitty old man will kick you in the stomach or in the head first." He gave a short bark of laughter, then fell silent. 

A hand was suddenly on Sanji's wrist, yanking him around, forcing his gaze onto Ace, onto the eyes that purposefully captured his. A few jaunted steps back pulled the young cook into the shelter of the clotheslines, between two lightly flapping tablecloths. "Listen," he said, his voice intent but a soft smile still glowing in his eyes, his fingers still holding the other boy's sleeve. "Promise me you'll go. Not today. But promise someday you'll make it there."

Sanji stared back at the other boy, wide-eyed, breath catching in his throat. He couldn't quite give voice to his reply and he wavered for a heartbeat or two before leaning in and touching his lips to Ace's in a brief, feather-light kiss. Then he was rocking backward, biting his own lower lip in embarrassment and again, tucking that lock of hair behind his ear. 

"Only if you promise I'll see you there," he finally mumbled.

The hand on Sanji's wrist pulled Sanji into a second kiss, only the slightest bit deeper, letting it linger a little longer. A kiss that only hinted at a hundred kisses. That promised of kisses that tasted like far away lands. Sealed a covenant for more, someday, somehow. "Promise," Ace said firmly then, breath still on Sanji's lips, cheeks glowing behind his freckles. He laughed as the wind tossed raven and gold hair over their eyes, whipping at their cheeks in its own agreement, finalizing the pact.

It was that very night, as the crew assembled for their late-night supper, after the doors had been closed to the customers, that Ace snagged Sanji by his elbow, catching the other boy's eye with a spark of such uncharacteristic seriousness that it startled the young cook.

"...Tonight?" Sanji repeated, barely able to muster the voice for his reply. He was glad the deck was dark, that the other boy couldn't see the emotion he knew must be paling his face at that moment. His stomach was aching faintly now and it certainly couldn't be because of dinner. He'd known the other boy would have to leave soon, but it had still caught him off guard. He'd somehow thought they'd still have days left to hang the laundry, to do the dishes, to whisper in the dark of the bunk room, exchanging stories and dreams. 

A sage nod was spared. "I received a message via gull this afternoon," he elaborated, voice low. "Something's happened. I have to get back to my ship. M-my captain..." He shook his head the, unable to explain. Given the circumstances, it was probably best not to allow rumors to spread just yet anyway. "Jii-chan's wall is done..." he added, carefully avoiding Sanji's gaze. "Thank him for me, for everything."

Sanji's fingers found Ace's in the dark, felt it out, gave it a squeeze. "I understand," he murmured, face turned to the cold wood of the deck. "I... I'll tell him." He didn't quite let go of the other boy's hand though. Sanji was quiet, unsure what to say, afraid that whatever words he chose would be the last he'd have the chance to speak to Ace. Yet, he argued with himself, unless he said -something- else...

"Don't--" he blurted, looking up suddenly, searching out the dim shine of ocean-reflected moonlight in Ace's eyes. --go? "...don't... forget. Okay?" he finished, cringing inwardly at how childish the words sounded. 

"I promised," Ace said earnestly, meeting Sanji's gaze evenly, intensely. With a smooth movement, he'd pulled himself onto the railing, in his trademark crouch. A warm hand caught the other boy's jaw then, tilting his face up. "Don't you forget, either." Another kiss was pressed to Sanji's lips, this one tingling with warmth, lingering, unwilling, unwanting to let go.

"I won't," Sanji choked, lips still touching Ace's, breathing in, tasting, memorizing the other boy's scent, taste, touch, willing his eyes to stay dry, even as his words caught tight in his throat. 

Ace grinned his Cheshire grin one last time as he leaned back into the open air. "Ja na, Sanji-kun." Warm fingers slid from Sanji's skin as Ace gave himself up to the night breeze only for his boots to thunk solidly on the metal of his schooner. A moment to safely secure his belongings and tug his traveling hat into place and the bottom of the tiny boat erupted with flame, casting its glow on the inky sea and the Baratie's hull. The brilliant light allowed Sanji to follow the other boy's path to the dark horizon but Ace's craft was so speedy that it wasn't long before the glow was only a match's flicker in the distance. 

*

"HIYA! I am Captain Onigiri-Usopp!" a riceball announced, its long and suspiciously finger-shaped nose waving as it approached a second and much larger figure. "Oh! And who might you be?"

"I'm Meshidaru-san!" Luffy crowed, proudly lifting a rather impressive snowman-like creation of rice and sausage.

The twin clang of metal striking sharply down on the backs of the two boys heads was purely inevitable and both Luffy and his sharp-shooter face planted onto the galley table.

"DON'T PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD!" Sanji roared, gripping the handles of the pots that were now firmly planted on the backs of the younger boys' skulls. "If you're both so bored, then go wash some dishes!"

Ace only simpered to himself, somewhat sympathetically as his brother's rice snowman creation crumbled in a sad pile on the table and Sanji stormed off to the sink. "Jeeze! Here I am, trying to finish making our bento before we set anchor up river..."

From his position at the table, cheek propped in his palm, Ace watched as his brother's cook rolled up the sleeves of his somewhat ridiculous desert robes, revealing that his arms were indeed just as skinny as the last time he'd seen the cook. It seemed the other man had only grown upward and not outward, though from what he could tell, Ace found very, very little to complain about.

"Want me to help with anything?" Ace asked politely, gaze fixed on the back of the blond.

Sanji paused briefly before looking over his shoulder, flashing a smile at the raven-haired boy who sat at his table. "No, you're a guest on this ship," he replied cheerfully, in a voice perhaps only a note or two lower than Ace remembered. He turned his attention back to his work in the sink. "Just sit back and take it easy."

Ace just smiled.


End file.
